July 2019: Salt, Snow, and Coca

One for the ages

July 2019 will go down in history as the toughest period in our (so far) 14 months on the road.

We strongly debated titling this post “Salt, Snow, and So Many Tears.”

People often ask if we’re on holiday. And we’ve touched on this many times. But as the year as gone on, it’s clear that the resounding answer is no. We’ve spent our time exploring more than just food and architecture, more often touring the inside of a stranger’s house than modern art museums.

It’s a beautiful, strange, adventurous experience. One that everyone should have in their own way.

But, boy, Bolivia was a bitch.

No Stamp for You

Bolivia and the US have a long history of not-so-peachy relations. It’s some combination of the US’ penchant for its War on Drugs (and its unwillingness to take responsibility for its side of the problem) and Bolivia’s own corruption.

But, it’s safe to say, the Bolivian government HATES the US. Even the pre-Trump US.

That means an absolute nightmare for American citizens crossing the border.

Stefan, an Irish citizen, got his stamp in appx 2 minutes. Tori? 5 hours.

We should have realized this was just the beginning.

(Evaporated) Sea to summit

We entered Bolivia from Peru, a long contingent of stinky busses and half-closed eyes.

But once we arrived in La Paz, Bolivia’s most well-known metropolis, we got right to it. Almost immediately we set out on a two week journey into the little-explored Cordillera Real.

The journey went spectacularly, except for the overnight temps, which left our sleeping bags covered in a sheet of ice almost every morning. Tori refused to get in virtually any type of water (even the supposedly ‘hot’ showers back on La Paz) for fear of frozen hair and purple toes.

After the peaks, we wound our way down to the center of the country in the high desert of the Altiplano.

This area holds a host of wacky wonders, like lagos full of pink flamingos and expanses of dried-up salt lakes.

finding connection

Another thing it’s famous for? 80kph winds.

In the middle of a massive 200km overland journey (on foot, mind you, no off-roading for us), we got literally blown away by a desert dust storm.

Temps hovered around -5F with windchill and we had to wear sunglasses to protect our eyes even though the desert sand thoroughly obscured the sky.

It changed the tone of our journey, and for a minute it looked like we should simply leave the country that had proved so hostile to our goals to hike and camp.

But the wind pushed us right through the doors of some really lovely locals: transplanted hotel workers, bathroom attendants, and a family in charge of a hot spring.

Maybe we can’t recommend Bolivia’s weather in invierno, but we can certainly recommend its people’s warm hearts.

Oh how often that is the case.

♡ Stef and Tor